Page 18 of The Christmas Letters
Seriously? Was getting locked in a bathroom stall not enough of an ordeal for one day?
Either way, I can’t stay here.
Would it be terrible if I simply backed out of the driveway and didn’t return? I could toss Chloe’s chicken salad onto the yellowing lawn and be gone in a matter of seconds. She would understand. Chloealwaysunderstands.
My eye catches on Max’s Santa letter sticking out of the top of my purse.
There are people who have been through a lot worse than a failed society wedding.
I can do this.
Honestly, Ishoulddo this. And it’s not like Preston and I haven’t talked at all. I called him while I was in Bali. And we texted multiple times as we systematically unraveled the life we’d planned on sharing together. We’ve already made peace over how things ended.
The only thing left is to see each other in person. It will have to happen eventually, so why not now? Steeling my resolve, I slowly climb out of the car and walk toward the Vanderhorst brothers, my eyes darting from Deacon’s concerned expression over to Preston’s wary one.
“Hi, Preston,” I say.
He pushes his hands into his pockets. “Tess.”
His tone is perfectly neutral, but my heart starts pounding anyway, uncomfortable, nervous energy racing through my veins. I thrust the to-go bag I’m carrying toward Deacon. “I stopped at Francie’s on my way over. Chloe was in the mood for chicken salad.”
Deacon nods and takes the bag. “That was nice of you.” He looks toward the door, and I get the sense he’s wishing for Chloe right now. Her stabilizing presence would go a long way to making this interaction more bearable. “Are you coming in?” he asks.
“Oh. Um—” I look at Preston, who seems stoic, but not particularly uncomfortable. “Probably not. Chloe and I were going to—” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “She thought you were working late tonight, so we were going to hang out, but you’re here now, so I’ll just go.”
“We will be working,” Preston says. “We’ll be holed up in Deacon’s office all night.” He looks over at his brother, who is nodding in agreement. “Please don’t leave on my account,” Preston adds.
Since Preston and Deacon are both lawyers within their father’s firm, it isn’twhatPreston says that surprises me. Of course the brothers are working together. They probably work together all the time. But there is finally emotion in Preston’s voice, and it’sthisthat surprises me. Because he sounds…kind.Like he really doesn’t want me to leave.
Deacon looks at me, concern in his eyes. He motions toward the house, and I nod. “I’m going to take this inside,” he says, holding up the chicken salad. “You’re welcome to stay, Tess. You know Chloe will be disappointed if you don’t.”
Preston and I are silent until Deacon is fully inside, then we shift so we’re leaning against Deacon’s SUV, standing side-by-side, some sort of silent understanding passing between us.
We’re long overdue for an in-person conversation, and clearly, we both know it.
“Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken us so long to run into each other,” Preston says. After a beat of silence, he adds, “You look good, Tess.”
Again, I’m struck by how sincere Preston sounds. Which is…different.
Don’t get me wrong. Preston was not a terrible boyfriend. He was kind and courteous and every inch the gentleman he was raised to be. But our relationship was full of pretense. We were playing the parts we’d been given, saying the things we were supposed to say, so I’m not as experienced with Preston sounding so…real.It’s a nice change.
“Thanks,” I say. “I feel good.”
He nods. “Deacon says you’re starting business classes?”
“Yeah. Not until January when the new semester starts, but…” I shrug, suddenly feeling sheepish about my new plans. Most of the time, I’m fully convinced the path I’m on is the right one, despite my parents’ continual reminders that I’m wasting my life striving for things that are beneath me. But doubt still flares pretty regularly, especially when I’m confronted with myoldlife.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Preston says.
I lift my eyes to his. “Really?”
He runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes flash with something that looks like hurt, but then his jaw tightens, like he’s hardening his resolve. “I’m not going to say I don’t wish I could have given you what you wanted. But I also recognize I should have been more aware of how unhappy you were. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Tess. I mean that.”
It takes me a moment to respond. It’s not like I needed Preston’s approval. But it is nice to know he doesn’t wish me ill after how I ended things.
He nudges me with his elbow. “It took a lot of courage to do what you did,” he says.
I huff out a laugh. “Leaving you at the altar?”
